Page 70 of Ripped

“Sorry about that, Harold.” Donnie pulls me to the side so Dad can get into the kitchen. He smirks at me once Dad is out of the way.

“Ugh, god,” I groan.

Donnie gives me a peck on my cheek. “I need to go shower. I believe your mother is making French toast.”

Ooo, my favorite. “Hurry. Can’t promise there’ll be any left if you take too long.”

Donnie disappears down the stairs and I take a deep breath before joining my parents. Dad’s already sitting at his spot at the table, coffee in hand, with the news pulled up on his tablet. Mom drops a piece of egg-drenched toast into the pan and the sizzle makes my stomach growl.

They look so normal. Like the dinner wasn’t the most awkward thing ever last night. Like I didn’t have an argument with Mom afterward. Like she didn’t have the deepest heart-to-heart with my boyfriend this morning.

“Hey,” I say, wiping down my dripping mug and refilling it.

“Good morning, dear,” Mom says. “Do you mind setting the table, please? Your brother’s coming over for breakfast.”

Great. Love it when Brad shows up first thing in the morning.

Donnie’s quick in the shower and he makes it to the table as Mom piles on a full breakfast of eggs and bacon and sausage and French toast.

“This smells fantastic, Kathleen. Thank you so much.”

Mom beams and shoves an extra piece of sausage onto Donnie’s plate. His smile is polite, but I see the way it tightens on one side.

I lean over to whisper in his ear. “Would you rather your protein pancakes?”

Donnie shoots me a look that says “behave.” I shoot back another that says “make me.”

“So, Mom, Dad, you’ll be taking off soon, right?” Brad asks, stuffing his face with bacon.

“I don’t know why we can’t stay to help.” Mom’s already at the sink washing up before she’s even sat down to eat a bite.

“Because it’s your anniversary party. You can’t do any of the work.”

“I don’t see why not,” she mutters.

Brad ignores her. “Just go play your golf. Make sure you’re back here by one o’clock.”

“You don’t need us to help with anything, do you?” I pour an extra dollop of maple syrup on my toast, knowing Donnie isn’t going to let me anywhere near the stuff when we get home.

“No.” Brad doesn’t even look in my direction. “The party supplies people and the caterer will be here soon. They’re bringing their own staff.”

Good, because I have no intention of staying here and letting him boss me around. I grab Donnie the second breakfast is done and we’re out the door before Brad can change his mind.

“Where to?” Donnie asks as we buckle ourselves into the car.

“Um… there’s Forest Park?” I pull the directions up on Donnie’s phone and we head toward the large park kinda in the middle of the city. It’s busy when we get there. The baseball diamonds are filled with kids in uniforms, their parents yelling from the sidelines. People are out jogging or walking their dogs or having picnics on the grass. Fluffy white clouds dot the sky and the sun is warm on our skin. I take Donnie’s hand in mine and we meander our way through the park.

“Tell me about growing up here,” Donnie says as we step off the path to let a couple joggers pass.

I think back to high school, to my childhood, and not much stands out. Typical suburban upbringing in a typical suburban family. “It was pretty boring, to be honest.”

Donnie eyes me with an amused look. “I find that difficult to believe.”

“It’s true!” I laugh, feeling almost giddy with happiness. Just being here, in the beautiful weather, with Donnie, it’s inconceivable that life can be anything other than perfect. “My parents couldn’t drag me away from the TV. I was in the AV club in high school. Did the sound for all our musical productions. Filmed them too.”

“You really are a film geek.” Donnie nudges me with his shoulder and I giggle—yep, full-on giggle.

“I had an early start.”

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